What led me to the method was the perfect storm of frustration, hope, and information. I was heading for retreat in the Midwest, listening to podcasts on a 16 hour drive whenWim Hof on Joe Rogancaught my attention. I had previously held vague awareness of the method and played with hot and cold immersion intuitively over the last two years. During that time I battled autonomic disfunction that set in unexpectedly and was limiting my ability to participate in life (this in addition to 18 years of Crohn’s symptoms that were still nagging despite my technical remission). On the first day of breathing practice, my hands tingle and I become lightheaded, signs that are characteristic of the method as one works to grab more oxygen than is typically possessed. I had an acute release of tension in my diaphragm. It all felt good. I felt energized for the day. I felt ready to take on the cold. And this is unusual for me… because over the years I had only watched my body getmoresensitive,moretired, andlessadaptable. My aim in recording this process has been to track transformation, because in particular with autoimmune dysfunction, which holds great potential for improvement through the WHM, there are a lot of unknowns.

Aside from the fairly typical description above, one of the primary sensations that has come up for me during breath retention in the first 5 weeks is a nervous or hot feeling at the front wall of my pelvic floor. I have my curiosities as to whether this may be related to the surgical intervention that left a tight c-section style scar on my abdomen. I consider also that my body may have shut off feeling in some parts of this region to accommodate swelling, inflammation, and tissue trauma. Perhaps this is the return. The sensations come at the bottom of my breath retention when I near the end of my natural capacity to hold, and when my mind is training my body to be calm and survive on the oxygen it has in its bloodstream. It’s bizarre, fascinating, and continually changing. I also notice unevenness in the movement of my torso as I inhale. Whether it’s due to old rib injuries or some combination of physical and psychological misalignment that has patterned me, I recognize this as something I can work with through conscious intention and by engaging other aspects of my physical training. There is a general disconnect mid-body between the bottom of my rib cage and my lower belly and abs, which are far more supple. I bring focus to upper back mobility in extension as well as more core/pelvic floor integration. I add sprint sets to my workouts to round out my practice and keep my cardiovascular system challenged.

Cold showers have felt largely amazing, although I have had to slow the process of the online program because my body needs more time to adapt. On my second 10-minute cold shower, I was hit with exhaustion, phlegm, respiratory restriction, and a generally cranky pants attitude the day after. I had a moment like this somewhere in the 2nd week as well, and I will call these “integration days”... where my body says, “hey girl, you sit with what you’ve got before moving forward”. I recognize a similar, yet different kind of limit I’ve experienced in levels of athletic training. I chill. I repeat the previous step. I continue when my energy is on an upswing. I have now taken my 3rd 10-minute cold shower. Music helps.

Integration days have peaked my interest enough that I downloaded an app to monitor my HRV (heart rate variability). HRV provides information about the body’s ability to toggle between the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems by measuring differences in beats when you first wake up. There’s a more in depth post about WHM and HRVhereif you want to read it. Suffice to say that I have many reasons to think that tracking my own might help me better understand recovery needs and care for my immune system as I progress through the method. I will write a follow-up once I’ve completed the coursework and share any observations I have then.

As a general overview, I am already optimistic about the results of the program. In the weeks since I started daily practice, I have watched myself gain energy regularly. I’ve had a huge decrease in anxiety and belly symptoms. On occasion I have tears, trembling, or grief processing following cold exposure, but this is how stored trauma leaves the body. The frozen tiger must be woke in order for it to leave. In general, I have a feeling as if my body is creating a natural shield. Stress stays outside it, or perhaps just on the surface, allowing me to deal with it objectively in the material world.

Footage of a polar bear's trembling response to discharge trauma.

As an autoimmune sufferer, I pay close attention to subtleties in order to be kind and safe with this method and my physicality. This cold is personal, and yet it’s not. While the effects are absolutely individual and must be treated as such, the cold and the method are clearly impersonal teachers that provide no shortcut or ability to be outwitted. They only give steely resolve and frozen reflections: of body as machine and spirit as the driver, headed to our evolutionary potential. Will we meet it, and will it in fact be more than we anticipated?